


The 52nd Hour: Second Daylight

by ParadoxR



Series: The 52nd Hour [5]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Canon, Episode: s01e01 Children of the Gods (1), F/M, Pre-Relationship, Season/Series 01, Stranded, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 05:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2097960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadoxR/pseuds/ParadoxR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack claps his hands and stands with absolutely no awkwardness, leaving the alien-plus-archaeologist-plus-physicist conundrum for another day.</p><p>“First mission” fic and the fourth of five parts in “52nd Hour”. You could start here if you like ‘plopped in the middle’ fiction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Night

“Jack! There you are!”

 _Damn._ …Ok, Jack’s not quite sure what the curse is for, but starting to seem like the appropriate reaction to ‘excited Daniel’. _Guess he’s feeling better._ Daniel’s arm looked better when he changed the bandages, too, so Jack’s mostly focused on his own rapidly growing thirst. It gets hot quickly on…wherever they’re stranded. _At least Chulak was colder._ And wetter. Much, much wetter.

Daniel meets both officers hurriedly. He pushes his glasses up, which does nothing to dispel the bags under his eyes.

“Daniel.” Jack reminds him quietly when he reaches earshot.

The doctor’s voice lowers. “I’m going to go check something out with Teal’c.”

Neither man is watching her, but Sam’s eyebrows rise anyway. Doctor Jackson definitely doesn’t handle her CO the way she does.

“Are you?” Jack offers his friend humoredly.

“Yeah, it’s about six kilometers out…” Daniel spins slightly, eventually pointing south-southwest.

“Daniel, you’re not going anywhere.”

The younger man isn’t hindered. “No, Jack, I need to see this, Teal’c said there might be a town or something.”

“ _He WHAT?_ ”

Sam flinches at the tone. Daniel doesn’t, repeating calmly. “Teal’c saw some indications of a town last night.”

“Indications of a _town?_ ” _He was six klicks out last night?_

“…Yes. I think he said they’re probably ruins, but I’d like to check it out.” Daniel’s still peering southwest as if he can see six klicks through the dense beech forest.

“ _Daniel!”_ Jack finally catches the man’s squinting eyes. “You didn’t think this might be important to tell me _at the time_?”

Daniel grimaces at the upset military man.

“Six kilometers,” Jack continues, “that means there could be _hunting parties_ right on top of us right now. That means we could’ve killed their sacred what-ever-the hell.” He uses a sharpened bone from his waistband to gesture at more of their breakfast. “You _knew_ we might not be alone here?”

Daniel sighs. “They’re probably ruins, Jack. And if not, they certainly haven’t done anything to be unfriendly.” He looks pointedly at the still-outstretched bone knife. “No need to go stabbing anything.”

“They haven’t done anything to prove _aren’t_ unfriendly, _Doctor_.”

And that’s the crux of their problem. Well, that and the fact that very few things can convince Jack O’Neill of anyone’s harmlessness.

Sam knows they’re apparently friends, but the animus is making her uncomfortable anyway. “What did you say his name was?”

Daniel pivots to her genially. “ ‘Teal’c’. He’s the ‘First Prime’ of Apophis’s Jaffa. …Was.”

“Teal’c,” she repeats carefully.

Jack grimaces. The captain’s not particularly subtle in her discomfit. “Daniel…” The younger man turns back to him. “Go…” _Ugh._ “Talk to ‘Teal’c’ about this place. I want to know what he saw.”

 

Jack pinches the bridge of his nose at Daniel’s retreating form. Charlie’s disappeared into a now more-critical perimeter check, and Lou’s probably going to magically bother Jack any minute now. He turns to Captain Carter, who’s putting at least one post-graduate degree towards fading into the dry ground beneath their boots.

“Did he _seriously_ just say that?”

It’s Lou. Jack nods a grimace to him. The colonel’s pissed, probably more than he should be. _You should know better._ _Always ask what the geeks are doing._

“Captain…” He starts to Carter without turning from Lou. “Go…” Jack gives up trying to find something for her to do. “That way.”

The captain swallows professionally beside him. He hasn’t known her long, but that’s usually a bad sign. “They should go, Sir.”

Jack’s stays locked on Lou, unwilling to take in the captain’s face. “And _why_ , pray tell Captain, should they do _that_?”

She breathes twice. Jack’s not sure what’s coming, but he doubts he’ll like it.

“Because they might find something. Because we have exactly one hour to make this Gate work thirty-some hours from now, and if they don’t, we probably won’t make it home.” She exhausts her nerve on the statement and quickly nods her exit towards Daniel and ‘Teal’c’.

 

“Bus-ted.” Lou sing-songs at his CO when Carter’s not quite out of earshot.

Jack’s grimace hasn’t left him.

“You gave her that ‘talk’, didn’t you?” Lou nods to his own question. “Ata girl.”

 

 _Touché, Captain._ The thing is, Jack didn’t entirely dislike that. …In a strictly ‘don’t make a habit of it’ way.


	2. Just Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m migrating towards needing to write two POVs at once. I hope this works!

“Hi.”

The large bald head turns to meet Sam. It’s the second time that’s happened in as many days, and it’s a little disconcerting. He doesn’t talk, but then again he hadn’t been talking before. Daniel looks at her, too.

“ ‘Teal’c’, right? My name is Sam.” She gestures to them both respectively, feeling very much like a six-year-old on the playground of one of her half-dozen international schools.

Teal’c raises an eyebrow. High. It’s kind of impressive.

“err…I’m Sam Carter. Captain Carter.”

“CaptainCarter.”

She smiles and offers him an unreciprocated handshake.

“Sam…they don’t…”

Sam drops her hand at Daniel’s cultural tip and officially runs out of pleasantries.

Teal’c doesn’t seem to get that, and the man waits patiently. Not that she could imagine him waiting anything but patiently. _Which means he’s probably bored, irritated, and thinks you’re kind of slow._ Great start. She cuts to the chase, hefting her commandeered staff weapon carefully. Teal’c tilts his head.

“Um…this. Do you know how this works?”

He looks to Daniel, which initiates a solid thirty second conversation. Daniel spends most of it pointing at her in one way or another. _What the heck does ‘kree’ mean, anyway?_

“He says he doesn’t know.”

Yeah, she’d gotten that.

She also doesn’t believe it. Maybe it’s from running labs with more doctorates than people, or advising programs that know way more than they pretend, or tutoring every class she took before post-grad, but somewhere she’d learned that everyone can answer if you can ask the right question.

Sam sets the staff down in a safe direction and opens the hatch at the controls. It’s disappeared back into Teal’c’s hand before she knows what’s happened, though she’s pretty sure he stepped on the end somehow.

She quashes her annoyance. _If this is because I’m a woman…_ Because isn’t everything these days. “I need to understand how this works.” Whoops. _Quash harder._ “…I think it could help me with the DHD.” She stays crouched, still expecting her staff back.

Daniel translates again, and judging by his tone Sam elects to classify this as ‘skeptical Teal’c’.

She gets the feeling she’s going to provoke it a lot.

 

Teal’c puts the staff down beside Sam before she realizes Daniel’s stopped talking. The compartment is mostly blue-gray on the inside, with some sort of red object. _Darn._ She’d assumed it was a crystal at first glance, but it looks liquid. Teal’c removes it without asking and hands it to her. It takes her a second to remember to smile for it—the container is impressively _heavy_ and filled with something more gel-like than liquid.

She gestures to the weapon trigger, and he hits it without hesitation. Nothing happens. She’s holding the power source.

It’s one heck of a power source. Unfortunately, it also isn’t much like the DHD’s. She sits and studies the rest of the compartment carefully. Teal’c watches her watching it, and she’s pretty sure Daniel’s watching Teal’c watching her watching it.

_No pressure._

“Hey.”

Sam’s frontal bone puts considerable effort into colliding with her CO’s chin.

Again.

Something wet hits her ear as she crouches, and she quickly stands more dignifiedly to relieve her CO of the large, water-filled football-shaped nuts he’s juggling. _You’re lucky you’re not soaked._ Though that actually sounds great considering the blood and dirt coating everything except her bandaged wounds. But filtering and boiling their drinking water takes time without purification tablets. _Another thing you forgot to bury._

“How’s it going?” Jack’s tone stays light despite the not-new discoveries that Daniel is annoying and Captain Carter doesn’t have a clue where she is when she’s holding something complicated.

“Not well.” _Sir._ Sam takes a gulp from the cut end of the football and gestures back to the dismantled staff. Her CO lets her sit with a nod.

“And why’s that?” Jack asks the top of her head. That’s not an answer he can dismiss her on, not with less than forty hours left on the clock.

“The staff weapons aren’t the same technology as the DHD.” _Sir._ “I was hoping for a lead.” _Sir._ Sam keeps her eyes down and resists the urge to squirm at the memory of father’s scolding. Everything still sounds disrespectful without the ‘Sir’ at the end.

“What kinda technology is it?” Jack knows he’s gone from lighthearted to pushing in three sentences, but if she needs a lead he figures she needs a push, too.

The captain cranes her neck up to him, and Jack’s grateful he doesn’t realize where his eyes land until after he’s automatically moved them. He finds her eyes just as a thought flits across them. It’s probably something like ‘err, it’s _alien_ ’, but he might be projecting.

 _It’s alien, Sir._ Sam bites down on the answer and makes herself follow her CO’s line of questioning. _There have to be dozens if not hundreds of different technological bases, Colonel. This isn’t going to get anywhere. It’s pattern seeking. Any similarities I see…_ Ahem. _Didn’t I say follow his line of questioning?_

The captain’s head un-cranes slightly as she thinks further. Jack can’t exactly fault the movement, if he wants eye contact he probably shouldn't stand directly above her. _And for other reasons._ Yeah. Jack sits down next to the three eclectic group members and tries to decipher how to work with an alien general, a civilian anthropologist, and a captain-astrophysicist at the same time.

“I think it’s kind of dumbed down, actually.” _Sir._

 _Who?_ Oh, right. The staff thing. “Yeah?” Jack takes another swallow and manages not to make a face at the sulfur-y taste. It matches the air and just about everything else. “How’s that?”

The captain looks at him sheepishly. Jack realizes he’s sitting too close. Well, he’s sitting about four inches from Daniel and a foot and a half from her, but it feels too close. In fact, it’s probably the closest he’s sat to a woman since Sarah.

“Uh, just a feeling, I guess.” _Sir._

“I didn’t know you had those, Captain.”

Well, that came out wrong.

The captain gulps and finds her open staff weapon infinitely more interesting.

“…Gut feelings.” He meant gut feelings. Jack claps his hands together and stands again with absolutely no awkwardness, leaving the alien-plus-archeologist-plus-physicist conundrum for some other time. _As long as it’s less than thirty-nine hours and twenty-seven minutes from now._ “Just…Go with your gut, Captain.”


	3. Time to Go

“Actually, S…” _err,_ “…Actually.” _His name’s Jack, Sam._

The colonel manages to stop short anyway. “Yesss, Captain?” _Why do you call her ‘captain’ if she can’t call you colonel?_

“I think I should go with them.”

Jack sighs. It’s now uncomfortably hot, which is a temperature he knows far too well. _You’re too old for this shit._

“Captain, correct me if I’m wrong, but it _is_ the DHD that’s broken, right?” Ok, so he gets a little caustic when he gets hot. Also cold.

“Yes.” _Sir._ She delivers evenly, and he’s happy she doesn’t wince at his tone.

“Sooo…” He’s not particularly happy about having to prompt her.

“I think I this gave me an idea, Sir.” _Do’h._ “err, an idea.” _Smooth recovery you got there, Sam._

“Oh?” _Find your lead after all?_ He’s pleased, but her eyes are already distant again.

Sam jolts slightly at the voice. _You have a situational awareness problem, Captain._ She hadn’t always. It’s complicated. “Yes, S…s.” The ‘s’ is painfully long, but she manages to doge the banned ‘Sir’.

Jack realizes that ‘Sir’ing is her sign that she’s preoccupied with something way over his head. “Tell me about it.” He offers directly.

 _Tell_ _you about it?_ “err, Sorry, S…?” _Sir._

“Tell me, Captain. You know, with words.” Jack almost smirks. That’s the thing about young officers; she’ll always assume he’s trying to judge her, but really he just wants it to be his fault if they go and it’s useless. Or deadly.

“Um. Well, I’ve been able to deduce most of the main control pathways from the layout of the crystals themselves, and I’ve introduced some improvised components to test individual branches…”

Jack nods into her distant gaze. He’s following enough to know this also translates as ‘you let me dismantle our only radio’.

“…System redundancy also looks strong, and it’s protected with diodes and voltage buffers. Based on the similarities in DHD and staff power source integration, I think I can generate the waveforms required to spin the ring and lock chevrons by substituting the reserve power source and some crystals that serve as variable capacitors. But I need an inverter and I’ll have to control the locking protocol to a higher precision.” _A much higher precision. Maybe if I could mechanically sync the two switches..._

 _Huh. No ‘Sir’._ Jack nods and lets her make of that what she would. “So…?”

 _What?_ _Oh,_ “So I need to…” _Come on, Sam_. She certainly knows how to report to COs that don’t care. “Build something. I need parts.” _Sir._

 “Ok.” Jack doesn’t hesitate; there’s no benefit in sharing his concern that this’ll be decision that dooms them to a life of alien deer meat.

 

“Ok?” Daniel echoes from beside her. “So…we go?”

“Is your arm ok?” The colonel asks instead.

“Yeah!” Daniel answers with an enthusiasm that staves off Jack’s skepticism for all of one heartbeat. “…It itches, mostly. Sometimes burns. We ready to go?”

 _‘Sometimes burns?’ Great._ Jack doesn’t answer. “Lou, how’s the leg?”

“I’m good.” The major answers from a few yards off, voice still low enough to stay within the clearing.

The CO nods, knowing from experience that that means ‘I’m good to die running’ rather than ‘sure, I’d love a six-klick hike this morning’. Jack turns to Charlie. “Cover our tracks and head the klick back to the Gate.” _Six klicks, stealth movement, dense forest, might hit red flag temperatures, southwest is upstream—higher elevation—looks like fewer deer and worse paths, three hills, scout the area, get Carter’s stuff, lug it back… and thirty-nine hours left._ “Six klicks, three hills. Follow us if we’re not back in eight hours.” Jack gestures south-southwest with the intention of keeping their path clear enough for Charlie’s considerably tracking skills.

“Do I get the P90?”

 _Yes._ But he checks first anyway. “Daniel, what’s our man say about this place?”

“ _Teal’c_ says it’s highly unlikely that there are other humans in this area. The town, which sounds like a Hallstatt oppidum, looks entirely dilapidated from as close as he was willing to get.” Daniel doesn’t wait for the question. “Two kilometers out. It’s for less than a thousand people, in a valley three hills from here.”

Jack steps over Lou and the P90 without comment and silently receives the M9 and a sloppy salute from Charlie. “Alright campers, time to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oddly, I am not an expert on the Late Iron Age. I love historical corrections, though. I’m all for increased accuracy, particularly when it doesn’t involve increased work on my part. ;) For now you mostly get Wikipedia and my own museum experience.


	4. Rabbits and Vultures

_An old colonel, an alien general, a geeky anthropologist, and a physicist-captain walk into a bar…_ Jack’s done enough rucks like this to know when he’s getting a little punchy. His eyes are still surveying, of course. He’s not so worried about that part, especially with ‘Teal’c’ on board. But instantaneous command judgment… It’s been a long few days to keep up split-second thought.  _Hah. You used to make it longer than this. Remember Somalia?_

Yeah, well he’s older now. So sue him.

Jack makes it almost another klick before finally deciding that their captain needs a distraction. …Well, not so much needs as ‘would serve as’. And she looks like she wants some help with situational awareness. Or a wakeup call. …Mostly, she looks dead. _Like a dead, dirty, lobster._ With a lot of horse-fly bites. He tries to not glance at the purpling bruises on her sunburnt arms and definitely doesn’t think about what her torso and legs must look like. _Did you just say that?_ “So, Captain, what’re we looking to find?” _And how much is it going to suck?_ “And how much does it weigh?”

The exhausted officer arrests her stumble with her own staff weapon. Jack doesn’t grimace, but it’s frustrating given that she’d been moving stably if stiffly for the last twenty minutes.

“Sorry,” _don’t say ‘Sir’_. And then, “should we be talking?” she continues in the same hushed tone.

Jack can’t decide whether that earns a grin or a grimace as the mid-morning twigs crunch under her and Daniel’s feet. He should slow them down because of that alone, but he can’t slow them down. “It’s an important question, Captain, I wouldn’t be asking otherwise.” Also, being quiet while stationary, quiet with untrained refugees, quiet with known pursuers, and quiet while we-have-thirty-hours-to-cross-the-galaxy are all very different ‘quiets’.

Sam feels a blush at his obvious answer. “Sorry…” _And of course I also manage to miss that important question._ The insides of her eyelids are getting hoarse calling her name. _So they probably match your voice._ She sips more water and manages to swallow most of it.

“Captain.”

 _Wake. Up._ “Sorry.” _Huh?_ “What was that?” _Sir. Sir, Sir, Sir._ Sam hopes her mental honorific shows through on her face, because she’s had more than enough crap from ‘disrespected’ superiors.

The colonel doesn’t seem to mind. “How much does what you’re looking for weigh?” Though he knows the answer can’t really slow them down. With less than thirty-nine hours left, he’s getting them back in eight if he has to fly them back on that damned vulture.

The captain nods as if she’s actually thought about his concern. “Daniel says Teal’c thinks the town is wood-based, which makes sense, so I’m hoping pretty lightweight. I need wheels and wire mostly, some sheet, and whatever I can get structurally. Given the soil consistency out here, we figure the wheels are probably wood, too.” She pauses to beat back another yawn. “That is if they haven’t all rotted. Teal’c doesn’t know how old it is, except that there aren’t obvious trails out here. He thinks it’s a good mining area as well, but the sulfur has me worried. Daniel says they should know how to smelt, though, and I’m hoping they can anneal if it’s iron instead copper. Still, they could’ve taken all the wheeled vehicles. What do you think the seasons are out here? Migration? It seems temperate continental, if hot, and the streambed looks stable enough, but I don’t know much about climates or path overgrowth and this is alien aftera—”

“Captain.” _Wow._

_…A techobabbler that still got that much out of Daniel while you briefed Charlie this morning?_

The captain looks to him from where her drooping gaze is still trying to surveil their surroundings. She’d be doing better if she didn’t always have one eye on the ground in front of her.

“Sorry.” She offers.

“I think you’re right.”

Jack’s surprised her eyebrows don’t land in front of them, considering they almost certainly make it off her forehead. _Well, that woke her up._

“So, wheels.” He repeats for her. She nods to him almost distractedly. _Or ‘painfully’._ They’ve started up the second hill, which is maybe 1600 feet. _Maybe the town has dry socks._ That’d be worth it.

“And axles…short.” Sam elaborates. “Wire, plates or sheet. And anything else I can think of. I’m not really an engineer.” Though she doubts she’ll ever spend much time as a _theoretical_ astrophysicist.

 _You’re not what?_ “Captain, there are _many_ things that you are not.” _Far too many, out here._ “But ‘engineer’ is not one of them.” It isn’t really a joke; he knows what her undergraduate degrees are.

The captain glances to him again. She should stop doing that. _Because you like it? …No._

“Thanks.” _Was that a compliment?_ _…Probably not._ “I guess undergrad feels like ages ago.”

 _Yeah, right._ “Please, Captain, tell me what you really think of my age.” _Please don’t._

 _How do you even answer that?_ She doesn’t.

He’s glad. “So…think you could build us another radio while you’re at it?” He’s not sure exactly what the joking-to-lecturing ratio is in his tone, but he’s pretty sure her blush turns from awkward to embarrassed under the deepening sunburn.

“I am sorry.” _Sir._

“It would’ve been hard.” It shouldn’t have been, really. Charlie or Lou would’ve dug up their own radio and gotten an equipment dump from Warren as soon as they escaped. But it’s hard to blame the kid scientist for being more worried about not getting caught again. She’d done alright. Plus, she’d been thinking radio silence. _Because she didn’t know you’d get beaten destroying the captured radios rather than risk Jaffa hearing her and the guys at the Gate. _Jack shifts the spear tied to his back off one of the larger welts. Maybe if they’d known each other _before_ four days ago.

The captain swallows and nods, blue eyes not quite breaking with his periphery.

Two staff blast go off. They dive painfully for nearby tree trucks, and he beats her by enough to notice that she wheels around, covering his six. Teal’c’s still upright, which makes no sense.

“Err…sorry, guys.”

Jack quells the adrenaline high and quickly manages a huff to the chagrined archeologist. He’s not quite sure why yet, but he’s sure it’s deserved.

Teal’c inclines his head and kicks something. A rabbit. Or, an ex-rabbit.

Several joints crack somewhere important as Jack stands. “You know, you could’ve just said you were still hungry.” He manages not to scowl. _You’re too washed-up for this._ There’d been a few muscles that didn’t hurt, before that jump.

Daniel manages an impressive half-exasperated, half-chagrined expression but doesn’t answer.

“You alright?” The colonel continues pointedly.

“Yes.” Daniel pokes convincingly at his bandaged arm and stifles a tired yawn.

 _Come on, not you too._ Jack appreciates tough civilians as much as… most people in his business don’t, but the yawning needs to stop. _For cryin’ out loud, you slept the last two nights._

“Good shot.” Jack offers with attempted forgiveness. He finally climbs out of the fauna, acutely aware that his captain is still kneeling.

“That was Teal’c.”

“Oh?” Jack studies the charred mass again, which couldn’t have been more than two pounds alive and sopping wet. They’d split larger ones for dinner. “They don’t have fluffy bunnies where he comes from?” _Did you just use ‘fluffy bunny’ in a serious question about an alien five-star general?_

Daniel glances to their new friend. “I think he shot it because I did. …I missed.”

 _He missed the fluffy bunny._ Jack concedes that’s not particularly surprising. The blast radius on these things is good, but the aim isn’t. Teal’c had only nicked him.

Carter’s finally standing beside him. She’s needed those extra fifteen seconds, and Jack wonders again whether seven hours asleep over thirty-five hours, two battles, and two prison breaks, a beating, and being roasted and bitten alive in this sun isn’t going to cut it for her. The shade’s not even doing much for him, at this point.

Sam moves painfully despite not wanting to. If she’d been running on fumes, she’s pretty sure those staff blasts just exploded them. Her CO glances at her studiously just as her ankle squelches into something. She doesn’t look, assuming it’s animal-related just so she doesn’t get her hopes up. _Maybe you don’t actually want this job. _She’s almost too drained for the thought to register.


	5. Staggering Intervals

They sneak up on the last hill slowly. The town clearly is just ruins by the light of the still-mid-morning sun. Of course, that just makes it all the more difficult to convince Daniel about the dangers of booby-traps and violent squatters. Jack manages to squeeze out half an hour of perimeter surveillance before the needs to get back to the DHD and to not deal with ‘nearby ruins Daniel’ reach full potency.

In the end, Teal’c and Jack pick a street that minimizes ambush possibilities—not that cities are particularly notorious for minimal ambushes—and they just go for it. It’s a ghost town. _Why’s it a ghost town?_

“So, Captain.” She blinks. “Your show.”

Sam nods to her CO and squints around. It is, or was, a nice little town, well-constructed if simple. She’d seem something like it in a museum when her dad had been stationed at Aviano: dozens of tan houses with short clay walls and towering thatched roofs. The forest was reclaiming it, though, and there were definite signs of wood rot basically everywhere. This would be difficult. Especially since the mental math she’d managed during the hike hadn’t been promising. The DHD’s capacitors can’t give her one of the time constants she needs to jury-rig the locking protocol. _Why’s everything in there so slow, anyway? Probably more resilient._

“Captain.”

 _Get it together, Sam._ “So the dual voltage spikes in the locking sequence are just under half a second apart. I can get the right time constant for one using a capacitor crystal, but my best bet for the other is doing in manually with a simple parallel plate unit.”

 _Which of course requires parallel plates._ She glances around worriedly.

“…If we connect them to the discharging circuit in staggered two-second intervals, we should be able to roughly recreate both waveforms in the main control crystals.” _Roughly._ One’s sinusoidal and one’s square, so here’s to hoping geometry matters less here than in the Gulf. “Then there’s the standard low-voltage AC conversion for the spin, which I think is supposed to happen within the secondary power regulator. That looks like a lost cause, so my best bet is making and manual rotary inverter to mechanically change the backup power source from direct to alternating current.” _At like a hundred alternations per second._ She grimaces, though a hundred hertz isn’t actually that fast, relatively. _Maybe if I just wire-wrapped the entire circumference of a wheel…_

Something’s tugging annoyingly at the corner of Jack’s mouth. And the expression is curving upward much farther than he’s used to with words like ‘dual voltage spikes’ nearby. _She’s pretty cute for a dead, dirty lobster, isn’t she?_ Jack works his jaw to dispel the smile and manages not to answer himself. “So…?”

His captain takes another few seconds studying a well’s hand crank before two very blue eyes turn to blink at him.

“Sorry. Uh, does anyone see anything metal? Wire? Foil?” She bites down a yawn.

“Size?” Jack prods as the eyes rotate away from him again. He’s walks towards the well himself. It’s tempting, if not promising. The huge flies seem to like it.

Sam shakes her head roughly. It makes her dizzy. _You picked a hell of a time to forget the plate capacitance equation, Doctor. _“…Carry-able.”

Daniel’s straying a little too far, and Teal’c changes directions after him without request. Jack’s really starting to like that guy. _You’re really starting to like them all._ He continues studying every dusty window as he walks back to his captain and hands her another plum and his water container. She doesn’t object. _You’re going to run this kid into the ground._ And she’s going to hate him for it. The thought makes him more uncomfortable than he’s willing to admit.

 

Jack clears one building and then another. They’re all residences, and mostly cleaned out. He turns up a dozen funny-looking floppy hats in one and three shoulder bags in another. The hats are annoyingly heavy and smell terrible, but he tosses the widest brimmed one at Carter without comment. She definitely wears it better than he wears his.

“CaptainCarter.” The alien’s voice cuts calmly through the ghost town, and both officers look down the side street. They hadn’t split up by much.

Daniel’s brushing dust off a large sign, and has been for a while, judging by the quiet sneezing and the state of his t-shirt. Teal’c isn’t visible until he pulls himself upwards out of a nearby cellar door. Jack curses quietly. He knows the alien general’s by far the best of them out here, but he doesn’t like the thought that the man will just disappear into dark basements without a word, much less a request. _Yeah, because you outrank him in your mind?_ They seem to be playing it that way. For the time being.

Teal’c gestures to the captain, who for her part waits respectfully for Jack’s ok. He gives it based largely on Teal’c’s expression, which is the first time Jack realizes he can differentiate more than two of them.

“Jack! It’s a smith shop! Blacksmith, I think.” Daniel gestures at the sign with his good arm. “This whole street is full of them!” It’s as much the doctor’s excitement as his content that reinvigorates both officers. “Well, they’re not really ‘smithies’, per say, as that would appear to be anachronistic out here, but in terms of division of labor this is…”

Jack follows Teal’c back into the basement and clears it quickly before turning around to catch Carter on her decent. _Way to go, Daniel._ He feels like a lost pirate in a treasure trove. This might actually work.


	6. Emerald City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam's getting science-y, but the details (while generally accurate), don't matter much. We're here for the relationship development, right? ;)

Turns out, Carter doesn’t need him to catch her, which is probably for the best despite the extra six inches she’s dropping.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” He echoes with more shared awe that he expects.

Daniel doesn’t follow her down. Jack’s muscles groan up at the young man just before his mouth tries to, but Teal’c stills him. The large warrior could’ve been lifting a two-pound rabbit for as easily as his arms leverage his huge form back through the opening. _Lucky bastard._ He skips the ladder again, which Jack realizes he’ll have to as well, given the state of the thing.

“So, Captain, welcome to the Emerald City.”

_Uh, huh?_ She gives him the expected grin freely, despite how un-CO-like that was. _He’s certainly…different._ In a good way. _Don’t get ahead of yourself._ And she’s finally remembered that darned equation.

“Captain?”

She manages to skip the confusion and just point. “How big do you think that is?”

“The sheet?” _Of course the copper sheet, weren’t you listening to her earlier?_

“Yes, S…”

Jack walks over to the large workbench as a rat scurries under their feet. Neither officer jolts, though Sam’s willing to admit it’s mostly exhaustion rather than experience for her part.

“I only need a few millivolts peak-to-peak.” _Which is probably one of the ways those crystals last for so long._ She steers her thoughts back away from the magic of the device, disbelieving that she’d only seen her first one three days ago.“And a very low time constant. So I think it needs maybe a multilayer metal foil capacitor out of a sheet or foil like that.” Of course, she has no idea how to actually _make_ that. But it’s a capacitor, right? “It’ll also need dielectric layers.”

Jack just assumes she’s not talking to him. Fixes all sorts of problems.

Sam studies the materials in basement. It’s darker. _And colder._ _Concentrate._ “Some sort of insulator.” Or oil? They use oil for this, right? _You need to read more. And sleep more._ She doubts this job would ever be conducive to both. “And nails. Cloth.”

The captain reaches for the apron next to him. _She thinks she’s in a laboratory._ She’s right, Jack guesses. Apparently some eggheads can find those anywhere.

He pushes a nail across the table at her and focuses on the question he can answer.“It’s eighteen by twenty-nine, just over a sixty-fourth thick.” _She’s a physicist._ “Inches.” He clarifies. Silly scientists and their metric system. He considers his next thought for a second. “Good thickness tolerance.” _Even my undergrad wasn’t that long ago, Captain._

_Hmm? Oh._ Sam blinks between her CO and the copper sheet. “That was …precise. Thank you.” She sketches in the dust of the tabletop, running the math as quickly as she can manage. “This is going to take multiple layers. We’re going to have to cut it.” She glances around the shop. That might be a tall order.

“Alright.”

_Or not?_ “Really?”

Jack grins around the basement. Daniel’s translation is impressive for whatever generations-removed language they’re in. But the shop’s not really blacksmithing; it’s closer to jeweler. “I do have some skills, Captain.”


	7. Happening Quickly

“O’Neill.”

Teal’c’s voice enters the basement when Jack’s halfway through the second cut. The captain’s collected the rest of her materials and is sitting against the far wall scratching still more incomprehensible equations in the dirt. Jack’s head hurts just looking, which he doesn’t.

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

Four Air Force eyebrows shoot up as their boots bolt directly for the door. _What now? _The alien doesn’t sound alarmed, but they hadn’t expected a call in English.

“It’s ok, Jack. We just found a good building.” Jack stops in relief at Daniel’s voice and watches Carter almost collapse back against her wall. “Sam wants wheels, right? There’s a chariot place a couple streets down.”

And the captain’s un-collapsed in a flash.

_God, make this mission over._ What Sam wouldn’t give to sleep with her eyes fully closed and no threats of whips. And no direct sunlight. Or huge horseflies. She tucks her wire and aprons back in her satchel and commits her latest equations to memory. This should be enough.

Teal’c’s head sticks out over the tornado door. Sam wraps her hands in the cloths she’d picked for the purpose and looks up at the splintered doorframe four feet above her head. _You should’ve kept up with gymnastics better after the Academy._ She grunts internally.

“Here…” Jack trails off and drops his intertwined hands as his captain jumps at the opening. She catches and swings herself up quickly, though she’s audibly grateful for the dark hands that reach down under her arms.

_Great._ So Jack’s trekking around an alien planet with a bodybuilder and a gymnast. “You know, I would’ve helped.”

Sam winces. It’s not an offer she’s used to from COs. “Sorry.” _Sir._ She calls back down. He just finishes the last cut and starts handing the rest of their supplies up to Teal’c.

_Whoa._ Jack leverages off the door frame automatically as the Jaffa lifts up Jack directly instead the last armful of metal. If the colonel-plus-iron feels heavier than the material alone, the warrior barely shows it.

“Thanks.”

“You are welcome.”

Jack blinks at the man’s relatively good accent. It’s clear he’s only got Daniel’s taught phrases now, but Jack wonders just how quickly the general picks up most languages.

“So, wheels?” Daniel nods to his own question and leads them down another side street, still reading the signs.

The sun’s just about overhead now and the temperature proves it. Teal’c’s hefting most of the metal in one hand, but Jack sticks the cloths in his commandeered satchel for when they get too hot. There are a few deer roaming the overgrown yards and some more of the rabbits and rodents under the fences, but nothing else stirs. Jack actually tries to convince himself that it’s _too quiet_ , but it’s really not. It’s like an entire town just decided they had better things to do than live and earn a living. Whatever they’re doing instead, Jack again hopes they stay there until it’s too late for them to miss what his team is taking. _Where are the thieves?_ They’re already passed two more jewelry shops.

“That one and that one.” His captain points and speaks almost before he’s through the door. “How tall are they?” Her tone’s both curious and subordinate, though Jack doesn’t miss that she’s dropped the ‘do you think’ from her measurement request.

He picks up the first wheel in question and carries it to the second. “A foot and eight inches and just under nine inches.”

She smiles at him gratefully. Jack ignores it. _You ignore it._

“How do you _do_ that?” _Sir?_ She digs through the other wheels.

Jack waves his well-measured arm in the air. “You should learn your body proportions, Captain.” _You didn’t just say that._ He decides he didn’t.

She doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, she’s back to writing in the dirt with a thoughtfulness he’s only approximated recently at the bottom of beer bottles.

“They’re…perfect.” She acknowledges to the floor.

_That’s not what she meant, Colonel. …Though, it’s a hard point to argue. _Jack ties both wheels to his satchel strap with a little too much determination.


	8. Foreshadowing

_“Are you opposed to coming back here, S…?”_

_“You gonna send me shopping, Captain?” He smirks at her from their position at the town’s edge, facing back towards the Gate. Maybe they had been Gate people; this was obviously the town’s front entrance._

_She blushes. “I think I have what I’ll need, but contingencies will take longer and weigh more if you don’t want to come back.”_

_“Hey, I like decrepit, old, dirt-encrusted malls as much as the next guy. Just give me the shopping list next time.”_

Jack blinks the memory back into the beech trees, still scanning their too-hot environment. _She’s growing on you._ Maybe. Not in Charlie’s dog-named-‘Barrel’ sense, but she’s a good officer. Not a field op, but then again neither is he. Maybe he has two scientists to tolerate sparingly.

He readjusts his sack as they pass the soil he’d used to hide two plasma burns. There’s more dirt from a nearby tree trunk still scratching at his abs. _Maybe just one scientist_ , he jokes to himself. Though honestly, Daniel’s been great mostly.

The red sun’s still high in the sky as they pass the rabbit landmark. He keeps them roughly on their outbound path—most of the landscape is walkable, but they’d cut through in a few places and he wants to keep making good time. They’d spent barely over an hour total around the town, and Carter hadn’t weighed any of them down too far with …whatever the hell most of this is.

Jack shifts his gear off another bruise. He'd also refilled all their ‘football’ jugs in the water well just in case and Daniel found some honey and salt in what was once a sweets shop. The oil he found there is pretty old, but Carter wanted it anyway. It’s a good mission, actually. They’d be back in less than half his ETA at their current rate, which gives them over thirty-five hours to deal with whatever catastrophe their current good luck is foreshadowing.


End file.
